The Way We Talk
by Alex Asylum
Summary: Imprinting story. SethXOc. Amelie moves to La Push after a tragic event that haunts her memories every day. With everything changing in her lie, will she be able to accept an idea of love? Let alone with a werewolf? Rated T just to be safe.


**A.N: Okay, this is my second story on Fanfiction and I am so excited to start it! This is a Seth imprint story because it seems evey werewolf is imprinting except him, and it makes me sad because he is so sweet. :) I love him! All of the chapters will be in Amelie's POV. I don't like it when authors change POVs all the time, it annoys me.... But, anyway, enjoy and if you have the time, please review! Charecter pictures on my proflie. Oh, and you pronounce her name like, Ah-may-lee [Amelie]. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own any Twilight charecters, but I do own Amelie, Tristen, Jackson, Malia, and Lace [she is sooo cute].**

_Welcome to La Push. _The sign that we just passed read. I chuckled darkly. Yeah, I can feel the welcoming vibe reflecting off all the green foliage that seemed to be covering every possible surface. My brother, Tristen was sleeping next to me at an awkward angle with his neck bent backwards and one arm resting around Lace's car seat, the other tucked in his side, his elbow poking my side.

"When can we get out?" I asked my dad. His tired, sad face brightening at the sound of me muttering he first words I had spoken to him in about a week. I felt bad about separating myself from him, but I was still mad that he was moving us to Washington from our old house in England.

"We'll be there in about five minutes." he said. I nodded my head and looked up at the moon that was shining full force at me. "Amelie?" my father asked quietly, so he didn't wake up Lace or Tristen. I didn't answer him but he continued anyway, "I know you're not exactly happy with me right now, but I have a surprise for you when we get home."

I shot him a glare, "Hopefully a better one than the one about us moving here." I spat as we pulled up to a house.

It looked old, and small. This was definitely not my dads style. My dad owned a huge company so we didn't have to worry about money and he liked to show it off by buying elaborate things. I didn't really care about material things and tried to keep my spending at a minimum but my brother had a horrible habit of spending more money than both of us combined almost every night. I really hoped Lace wouldn't turn out like him.

I opened the car door and walked around to the other side and got Lace out of her seat, leaving Tristen in the car. It was raining outside and my once long blonde hair, now dyed black, was soaking wet and plastered to my scalp. Without waking up Lace, I ran into the house and shook my head. I probably looked demonic with mascara and eyeliner running down my face, but at least I was warm.

Surprisingly, I heard a very feminine squeal and the sound of someone running down the stairs. "Jackson! I've spent all night getting ready for you and the children! I can't wait to meet th-" her voice cut off as soon as she saw it was me she was talking to and not her beloved 'Jackson'.

The woman standing before me was very pretty. She had short brown hair and kind eyes. I didn't like her at all. "Dad!" I yelled out, completely forgetting about Lace.

I cringed when her cry pierced through the awkward silence that had settled over the woman and I. Dad came running through the door and I could tell that tonight wasn't going to be fun. I was tired, irritated, and holding a screaming baby.

I held Lace a little closer to me and looked at my father, ignoring the strange woman. "Where can I put Lace? She's tired from the long drive over here."

The woman walked closer to me and gave me a kind smile, "I'll take her for you and let you and your father talk."

I leaned away form her and told her in a cold voice over Lace's wailing, "No thanks. If you can just tell me where to put here, I'll be going to my room. Assuming I have one?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Amelie, of coarse you have a room here. It's just up the steps and down the first hallway. Third door to your right." she said. "your room is the one after it."

I didn't even want to know how she knew my name. I sighed and walked up a staircase that led to another floor and followed her instructions. Lace's room was a light purple, lavender, I guess it was called. The her crib looked so miniature compared to everything in the room, it was adorable. Lace had her head resting on my shoulder, but she wasn't asleep. I attempted to set her down but she started crying a little, so I picked her up again and rocked her.

"You know," I told her as I walked through the room, "Mom would probably hate it here, with all this rain. I miss her so much. I wish she was still here. Did you see that lady down there, Lace? I didn't like her. But I guess I have turned into a bit of a pessimist since Mom died." I sighed, "I'm going to miss Sarah. Emily and Lisa, too. But Sarah the most."

I always talked to Lace like she was my age. It helped having someone who listened. Even if she was only a year old. Ever since Mom died last year, my dad became distant and was never home. I had to become Lace's mother and keep the house in order. It was hard, sometimes. But I had Sarah and Emily and Lisa to help me. They were gone now. I blamed myself for it. If only I had been there that night, if only I was a stronger person, if only Dad wasn't so successful. So many if-only statements. To think, if only I was there that night, maybe Mom would be alive. Maybe not.

I noticed Lace's soft snoring and set her down in her crib. As quietly as I could, I walked out of her room and into mine. I gasped as I walked in, the room was amazing.

The walls were striped with both light and dark blue and a border of white going through the middle. My bed was a light brown and the head board as well as an empty bookshelf and dresser were light brown. There window was huge and led out onto the roof, where I would probably spend most of my time and looked out into the forest. I curled my toes into the soft tan carpeting as I padded over to a door on the other side of the room that was apparently a separate bathroom.

I heard a light knock on my door and I turned to see my father opening the door. "You're supposed to wait for the person to say, 'come in' before you come barging in." I remarked harshly. But, hey, he was the one who moved us out here.

He sighed and sat on my bed as I moved to sit on a white couch and crossed my arms. It was cold in the house and I was only wearing a short sleeved shirt. "Listen, Amelie, I need to tell you something. And I know I should have told you sooner, but I was afraid you wouldn't come out here. I apologize." he sucked in a huge breath as if preparing himself for a huge battle. And if he was acting this nervous, it probably would be. "The woman downstairs, her name is Malia… I met her when she came down to London for her work. We talked for a while and I found myself getting closer to her. We talked over the phone and we went out together a lot...About a moth after your mother passed away, I proposed to her."

My jaw dropped. It literally popped open and it probably would have fallen to the floor if it wasn't hinged on to my head. A month after Mom died, that meant he was seeing her before. I closed my mouth and shook my head angrily. "I cannot believe you." I said in a quiet, furious voice.

"Ame," the man who I had once considered my father said in a soothing voice, "Please don't be difficult."

I scoffed, "You are telling me not to be difficult when you told me that you basically cheated on Mom? I think I have a right to be mad! Not just mad but furious! I seriously can't believe you would do this to her! She loved you! How could you betray her like this?" I was almost screaming at this point, but I didn't care if anyone heard me, I didn't really care about anything anymore.

"I did not cheat on your mom, Amelie Evadne Till. And don't you say I did." Jackson said in a hard voice.

I laughed without humor, "I think what you did counts as cheating, _Dad_," I spat out the last word sarcastically, "have you told Tristen yet? I'm sure he would agree."

"Yes, I did tell him. He accepted it. I wish you would, too."

My eyes widened. I didn't think Tristen would do that, but I guess Mom's death changed us all. "I must be living with a house full of traitors then. I can't even stand to be in here with you anymore. I'm leaving." I said as I got up and ran downstairs. I threw my phone out of my jean pocket and walked out the door with Jackson and the woman calling after me. It was still raining out as I left and I almost went back inside but thought better of it. I opened the car door and grabbed my plain black hoodie as I yelled to the back seat, "Tristen, we've been at the house for almost half an hour. Get up!"

Tristen jumped at the sound of my voice, "Why didn't you wake me up?" he demanded, glaring at me.

"Why didn't you tell me about Malia?" I countered back with a glare of my own. His eyes widened and I slammed the door as I ran onto the main road, pulling on my hoodie as I did so.

I headed towards the beach I saw as we were driving by, reaching it in only about fiver minutes. Quietly, I walked over to the water, kicked off my shoes, and out my feet in the water. I sat on the sand for almost ten minutes when I heard something move behind me. "I don't want to talk to you right now." I said as I close my eyes and leaned my head towards the stars.

"Well, then I better go." I heard an unfamiliar voice say.

I opened my eyes and snapped my head towards the voice. A boy, no, closer to a man, was standing not very far from me and staring at my face in wonder. I figured he was from the reservation as he looked Quileute. He had short black hair and beautiful dark eyes that were directed at the moon at this particular moment.

"Um, sorry. I thought you were someone else. Please, don't mind me, take a seat." I said.

"Nice accent," He said, still staring at the sky. I blushed at his comment. I probably looked like a tomato with my pale skin. "I'm Seth."

"Amelie," I responded.

He finally looked at me and got a weird look in his eyes, like I was the most beautiful person in the world, which is ridiculous. I wasn't that pretty, or smart, or interesting. He just stared at me for a minute, his mouth hanging open. I gave him a concerned look, "Are you alright?" I asked in a soft tone.

"Yeah, peachy." he said, but then blushed. I laughed a bit at his use of the word peachy. Anyone else I would have probably called weirs, but it was cute when he used it. He was different, for some reason.

* * *


End file.
